


Better Luck Next Time

by mrs_squirrel_chester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Female Reader, Fights, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 16:33:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5832754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_squirrel_chester/pseuds/mrs_squirrel_chester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader Request - While hunting a werewolf, you find you’re not the only hunter in town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Luck Next Time

Breathing low and steady, you crouched behind a large shrub, and took aim through a gap. You could hear him snarling, the werewolf, but you had failed to lay eyes on the beast. By your calculations, he was about twenty yards past the line of trees on the other side of the clearing, and should be breaking through in less than two minutes. You only knew that because of the scent you had sprayed on the plants and trees. It was your own special blend of female werewolf pheromones and human blood. What alpha werewolf could resist that?

Branches snapped at the edge of the trees, and that’s when you pulled the hammer back on your silver bullet loaded pistol. Looking down the barrel, you took aim, and waited. You didn’t have to wait very long before something broke through. But it wasn’t the beast you hunted. It was a human, a man, and he was running as if his life depended on it. Which it did, because chasing the man was the werewolf you had been hunting.

“Fuck!” You couldn’t get a clear shot, not with the man directly in front of the beast.

You jumped through the branches, hissing when a thorn bit into your collarbone. You tried aiming as you ran, screaming, “GET DOWN!”

But he didn’t. Instead, he ran right for you, giving shouts of his own. “GET BACK!”

It wasn’t until it was too late that you noticed he was carrying his own weapon. It drug through your shirt as he looped an arm around your waist, turning you roughly so that when you squeezed off a shot, it went wide; grazing the werewolf instead of killing it.

The beast yipped loudly as the pair of you went tumbling to the hard ground, rolling several times.

You groaned as you landed on your back, the stranger covering every inch of you as he fired his weapon. “Son of a bitch!”

Trying to wriggle free, you pushed at his sides. “Get the FUCK offa me!”

He chuckled low in his throat, settling a knee between yours. “Is that any way to talk to the man that saved your life?”

“The fuck you did, pal. You just fucked up my night!” With a bite to your bottom lip, you grabbed onto the collar of his green canvas jacket and thrust your leg up as hard as you could.

His eyes went wide as all the air was forced from his lungs. Using the momentum of your kick, you pushed him to the side, doing a kip up once you were free.

With a hand between his legs, he rolled on the ground, cursing crudely once he was able to breathe properly.

“Oh please, you’ll live. It’s not like I popped a nut or anything.” Turning your back on him, you quickly located your gun, wincing when you bent over. You lifted your shirt to reveal a rather large and deep gash in your side. Blood was oozing out faster than you’d like. Looks like you’d be giving yourself stitches tonight. “Shit.”

“Don’t tell me. You broke a nail.”

You spun on your heel as he pushed off the ground, wincing as he stood. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Same as you it looks like.”

“Fuck.” You hated working with other hunters. There were always too many inflated egos and exaggerated stories for your liking. “Don’t suppose I could convince you to walk away.”

Sliding his gun into a hidden holster, he began to close the distance between you. “I was just gonna ask you the same thing, sweetheart.”

“Why the hell would I leave? This is _my_ hunt.”

“I don’t know if you saw the size of that thing, but –“

Rolling your eyes, you held up a hand. “First off, I’ve been here since the last full moon. I’ve seen him and the damage he’s done. Second, you don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“Judging by what I saw tonight, I know exactly what you’re capable of. You couldn’t even kill it.”

Fury rolled in your belly, spreading into your arms and legs. “I couldn’t kill it because you were in the way. I had the _perfect_ trap and you fucked it up. Not me. You.”

“Listen here, darlin’, I may not know who you are, but I know this creature, and he’s one of the nastiest werewolves I’ve ever seen.”

“Macho man thanks I’m some damsel in distress.” You barked out a laugh before spinning on your heel to stride away from the still unnamed man. “Un-fucking-believable.”

You followed the large drops of blood, but they disappeared back into the forest. With sunrise a couple of hours away, you thought it better to get back to the motel and get yourself stitched up before heading back out. Reaching your car, you had just stripped out of your jacket when a hand fell on your shoulder.

Grabbing the hand, you spun around and behind him, wrenching his arm back and up until he was on his tip-toes. “Jeeeeeeesus, let me go!”

“What the… stop following me.”

He stumbled as you released him, giving him an extra shove just because you felt like it. “What’s your problem?”

“You. Now get outta my way.” Pushing past him, you threw your jacket into the car and dropped in, slamming the door just as he bent down.

He jumped back, slapping his hand against the window when you started your car, revving the engine unnecessarily. With squealing tires, you left him in the parking lot, scratching the back of his head when you took the corner like Mario Andretti.

* * *

Four stitches slathered with superglue, half a bottle of whiskey, and a shower later, you crashed for a few hours, waking up only because someone was pounding on the door.

With one eye halfway open, you stumbled to the door and looked out the peephole. _What the hell is he doing here?_ You rubbed at your eyes before throwing the door open. “Didn’t get your ass kicked enough last night, did ya?”

Propping a hand on your hip, it took you a moment to register his wide eyes as they darted from your bare chest to your eyes, and back again. “I… I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You sighed as you turned on your heel, leaving the door open. “Whatever. What do you want…” you let your voice trail off as you bent over to dig out a shirt from your duffel.

He cleared his throat a few times before answering the unasked question. “Name’s Dean. Dean Winchester.”

“Winchester, Winchester. Why do I know that name?”

“My dad was John. I got a brother named Sam.”

You finally found a shirt that didn’t smell like it had been rubbed in sweat and dirt. “Oh yeah, John. Met him about six years back. How’s the old man doin’?”

Dean was quiet for a heartbeat, waiting until the shirt fell to the bottom of your black cotton clad ass. “He uh, he died.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

The silence stretched for until you crossed your arms. “So… how’d you find me?”

“Small town, two motels. Plus, money makes people talk.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sighed heavily. “What do you want?” You could tell by the look on his face what he was going to say before he even said it. “And if you tell me I need to let you take this hunt, I’m going to kill you.”

“But –“

“But nothing. I don’t need some… some knight in green canvas to come and save the day.”

He was shaking his head as you talked. “That’s not what this is about… “

With a sigh, you returned the favor of telling him your name. “You need to leave.” When he opened his mouth to protest, you walked around him and opened the door. “Now, Dean.”

He clenched his jaw as he brushed past, stopping with a foot still inside the door. “Just… be careful.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

* * *

The rest of the day was spent gearing up for when the moon rose and confirming one last bit of information before heading into the woods.

It took longer than you were comfortable with, but you found the trail of blood from last night. You were deeper in the forest than before, standing outside a cabin that looked like it had seen better days. Treading carefully, you spritzed the pheromone and blood cocktail on the front porch just as the moon began its descent.

You continued to spray as you walked back to the clearing, and that’s when you heard it, a soul shaking howl that spread goosebumps down your spine. Pulling the gun from its holster, you pushed away from the trees, running as fast as you could. But you knew there was a chance you might not make it.

The beast roared as it tore through the forest, claws ripping through the dirt and foliage as it pursued you. With a snarl, he burst through the trees. Several of them fell with a thick crack that shook the ground.

“Shitshitshit.” If you didn’t turn around and put a silver bullet in his heart, he’d be ripping yours out with his teeth. You jumped, propelling yourself into a somersault. As soon as you finished the rotation, you kept your legs beneath you and spun on your toes and knees so you were facing the werewolf. _Fuck._ He was closer than you thought.

You squeezed the trigger as a massive paw swept through the air, striking you on the side of the head. You weren’t exactly sure how, but you managed to keep the gun in your hand as you landed on the ground with a mind numbing **thud**.

He was standing over you, blood and saliva dripping into your hair as he snarled. His left ear twitched before he opened his mouth to attack, and that’s when you fired your weapon into his heart until the magazine was empty.

* * *

The door to room 108 opened just as you raised your hand to knock again. Dean took in your disheveled appearance before stepping to the side. “To what do I owe the honor?”

There was an unopened beer on the table. Using the edge of your thick banded ring, you cracked it open, sending the top across the room. It wasn’t until the beer was almost gone that you dropped into the seat, lungs screaming for air. “Werewolf’s dead.”

Dean arched a brow, crossing his arms as he stood on the other side of the table. “I gathered that much.”

Chuckling, you ran a hand through your hair. “We can’t all come out looking like we just stepped out of a magazine.”

“Look… about how we handled things last night –“

You stood up, rolling your shoulders as your muscles cried out in protest. “Forget it.” Bending down, you grabbed a pen and scratched your number on the paper. “Next time you wanna do this again, call me.”

“This?” Dean followed you to the door that was still standing open.

“No harm in having a little… friendly competition. Better luck next time.” With a wink, you walked out.

You chuckled as you started your car, Dean was still standing in the door, looking very much like he had never seen or met anyone that didn’t fall at his feet or throw themselves at him. _Maybe next time._


End file.
